Wiseacre

The fool walks alone.
Ignorant souls pursue only their own.
While the patient weep rain,
the angry wince in disdain.

Folly chokes on its cheer
and oblivion drowns in its fear.
Love believes its own lie.
Grief is deaf to its cry.

Truth breathes air of dispair.
Beasts go back to the lair.
Idiots don't see the danger
in being a stranger
as they walk in they valley of selfish affairs.

Givers lose gain.
Takers feed on what's hard to obtain.
While the ancient seek life,
the litter evinces its strife.

Reason commits treason
and mind is unkind.
Death is true to the living,
senescence unforgiving.

Freedom is vain,
eternity plain.
And Bliss
refuses to miss
that last kiss
before going insane.

N.M.P